


Freedom

by InsertImaginativeNameHere



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Akande is such a bad person I love him, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complicated Relationships, Emotionally Repressed, Injury, M/M, Misunderstandings, Slight fluff at the end?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/pseuds/InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: The attempt to break Akande out of the Helix facility failed, and he had to make his own escape, believing Talon had abandoned him. Escaping proves to be only the first part of regaining his freedom.





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is because I'm a dumbass and started writing before I knew context so I've fleshed it out more.  
> I'm 110% on board with Doomreaper it's my new fave ship. Watch me be like writing these assholes.  
> More Doomreaper fic is a must though, even if it's because I'm an idiot, right?  
> working title was 'All Aboard the Doomreaper Train' so uh toot toot i guess

He was free. He’d made his escape from prison and hadn’t looked back, plans that had been years in the making coming to fruition. Years, wasted behind bars while the world moved on without him. Talon had left him to rot. He’d orchestrated this off his own back.

For two days after he made it to Numbani, the increased security presence and OR-15 units in the city drove him to lay low, researching, thinking, planning.

Biding his time.

He needed his gauntlet, but from what he’d heard online, Talon had already failed to retrieve it from the museum where it was kept. Fortunately the item was on loan to Numbani Museum for a special Doomfist display, making his timing all the more auspicious. It  was within reach. He studied the transport route, found the weak point. There would be security on all the buildings except one, where construction work was currently underway, and so that was the building he scaled, crouching on the top floor and letting the minutes tick down until he was reunited with his eponymous weapon.

All went well, there would be a Talon extraction team at Numbani airport with a plane. Assuming they even wanted him back. It wasn’t lost on him that they had never come to break him out, they had opted for his gauntlet instead, arguably as a means to rescue him but he knew Talon. They wanted it as a weapon to sell or wield without him, breaking him out was too much of a risk. He was okay with that. A man had to stand on his own two feet, or else was he truly a man?

The internet cafe where he’d got the message to Talon was run by a little woman called Ruby. She’d worn a colourful billowing red outfit, white polka dots, when he’d squeezed in through the pathetically small door frame.

“Hello sir, how can I-” she’d opened with, and her words had died in her throat even as she said them. Recognition. “You’re-”

“Ah yes. I am. My name is Akande. It’s my pleasure.” He’d smiled at her, a winning smile. Best to endear himself to her. It’d be unfortunate if things had to get ugly. “Who might you be?”

“R-Ruby,” she stammered, trembling.

“You dress to match your name. How apt,” he’d remarked. “Do not be frightened, Ruby, I don’t intend to kill you unless needs must. If you provide me with assistance, that eventuality may be avoided. Please close for today, and take a seat. Pay me no mind. I shall be quiet as a mouse, and you will be able to get about your day after I am gone. I need a computer.”

Frightened, the woman pointed at a chair and made sure the computer was working suitably before moving toward the cash register. Cowed as she was, he didn’t trust her not to pull a gun or call the cops so he stood up and indicated for her to take the seat.

“I will not be taken for a fool, Miss Ruby Red. Do exactly as I say, and you shall make it out of this alive.” As she sat, he saw a tear escape and wiped it away. “I do not, as a rule, kill without reason. Perhaps I kill to make a point, or to achieve a goal where the life is worth less than the end result. Rest assured, your death would currently serve no purpose. Now, type what I say.” He had her check the gauntlet’s route and memorised times and specific details, then he directed her to one of Talon’s front websites where he had her draft a contact message. He spent some time mulling over what to say.

“Write ‘Guess who’- no, that is far too obvious and gauche. Say…‘it has been some time - too long, in fact’ no, delete that part, I was merely thinking out loud.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “‘It has been some time since last we met. I hope you don’t miss me too much. Rendezvous at extraction point 1437. I will have luggage but no passport. See you in two days. You know who I am, and you know I do not like to be disappointed.’” He looked at his handiwork, satisfied. He didn’t need to be too cryptic - by then, he would have his fist. Escaping the airport would be no trouble. “There. Press send - no, wait. Add two xs. They stand for kisses, you know?” She nodded nervously and he laughed. “Perfect, is it not? The irony is truly sweet. That’s all, Miss Ruby. You may press send.” She did. He drummed his fingers on the desk, awaiting a response. Only a few brief moments later and the reply came through.

‘Understood. A team will be provided.  
Glad to have you back  
R-’

To the point. He liked that. He didn’t doubt what Reaper said, there would be a team waiting. But he wasn’t back yet; barely even back in the game. Reaper knew that too. Reaper, Reyes, there was no hiding behind names for them. They faced one another as equals.

Was he glad to have Akande back? Unlikely, at least, not on a personal level. This was purely tactical, he knew. Anything that had passed between them was a footnote in their joint histories.

Hardly a lover’s reunion, but then they were hardly lovers. Their relationship, as it was, was one of convenience. Your ally was unlikely to stab you in the back if you were sleeping together. It wasn’t quite trust. Only fools fell victim to that disease.

He finalised several other details of his grand plan, settling on the building, then he nodded at Ruby. “That’s all. You have done well.”

“Thank you, thank you, please-”

“However,” he continued, “I cannot let you live now. You know too much.”

Terror flashed in her eyes. “Please, please, I have children. They need their mother.”

“Do not grovel. Fear ill becomes mankind. You ought to face your end with strength. Chin up.” He lifted her tear-stained face gently. “Goodbye, Miss Ruby Red. My thanks. I am sorry I must leave your children motherless.” Before she could enter another plea for clemency, he moved swiftly and snapped her neck.

Poor thing.

He checked behind the counter and found a shotgun. She’d been going for the gun. His respect for her trebled.

Photos of three children, two boys and a girl, smiling. Their smiles would soon be sullied by the knowledge their mother had died in a fire that had destroyed the shop. Yes, a fire. Any evidence of Akande’s involvement would be destroyed. He took the shotgun just in case anything went amiss in his plans. No plan was faultless. He’d learnt that lesson the hard way, at the receiving end of a gorilla punch. Somewhat ill-advised, honestly.

The internet cafe was a smouldering ruin as he walked away, the fire taking hold and burning up Ruby’s life, Ruby’s body.

In two days time, he would have his fist back.

That was where he was now, perched atop creaking wooden scaffolding, watching intently for the convoy to round the corner. Soon. It would be soon. A matter of minutes, perhaps.

“You! Are you supposed to be up there?” a foreman hollered up from two levels below.

Akande tapped the yellow hard-hat he’d appropriated to blend in - insofar as he was able. “Naturally. I’m on my smoke break.”

“For the last time, there’s a designated area downstairs,” the foreman sounded exasperated. Evidently he had this conversation many times.

“I’m sorry,” Akande replied, spotting the convoy, the car with his gauntlet calling out to him. He got to his feet. “I’ll be down in a minute, but first I have to regain something that is rightfully mine.” He set the hard-hat aside; he had a reputation to maintain.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the hapless foreman yelled. “Get down from there!”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Akande replied, a wicked smile toying at the corner of his mouth. The convoy was very close now, spitting distance. “I will.”

With that, he jumped.

He knew it was a fall he could take - it wasn’t the tallest building he’d leapt from. It wasn’t a particularly tall building at all, but it was tall enough for him to gain momentum and launch himself at the roof of the car with enough force to buckle it as he landed.

The world around him erupted in noise, yelling and panic and tires screeching to a halt. Guards fighting to get out of their cars in time. He saw an OR-15 unit lining up a shot on him and smiled wryly to himself. He punched through the glass keeping his gauntlet from him.

He was free.

Slipping his fist into the gauntlet, he dove forward, charging up for the blow and drove the unit into the nearest wall.

The unit buckled.

The wall _shattered_.

Akande turned to the other guards, cracked his neck and smiled. “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough,” he called, clenching his fist, letting it charge up before the inevitable release.

Chaos.

“Doomfist!” he heard someone yell. “It’s Doomfist!”

Akande bowed his head. “Yes, it is. Now if you gentlemen, ladies...omnics, if you would all please excuse me, I have a plane to catch.”

 

-

 

Wherever he walked, people scattered, falling over themselves to get away from him. He stood tall, shoulders back, towering high above the world and anyone who got in his way. This was how things should be. Even trained operatives shrank away from his power. Their omnic counterparts, the OR-15s, did not have fear. It was not programmed into them. An advantage they had over humans.

Most humans, that is.

Akande did not feel fear, he inspired it. He made his way into the airport, brutally taking down any bots to get in his way. It wasn’t subtle but it didn’t need to be. He had his fist.

Shock and awe tactics. The shock when he hit them, the awe intuitive, the knowledge those who survived had survived because he graciously allowed them to. The awe at what he was, a pinnacle of human achievement.

The awe at him.

Shock and awe.

Everyone scattered. Except a little girl he caught watching him, eyes wide not with fear - shock - but with the latter; pure awe at the spectacle she was witnessing unfold.

“Remember this day, little girl,” Akande found himself saying. “Today you witness history, greatness rising from the ashes like a phoenix. Tell your friends. Tell them ‘he cannot be dissuaded. He cannot be stopped’.” Two security bots blocked his path and he eyed them grimly. “Remember, little girl. Watch this.”

With that he flew, driving one of the bots into the wall and using the shotgun he’d acquired to blast the other in the face. He hadn’t picked up any ammo and so after that he cast the useless weapon aside. He was in himself a weapon.

Another bot received a blow with his regular hand then he seized it, crushing it in the metal fingers of his gauntlet.

He surveyed his surroundings, making sure nobody could get the jump on him, turning to address his audience.

“I am Akande Ogundimu. I am the Successor. I,” he declared proudly, to anyone and everyone listening. “Am Doomfist.”

Dramatic moment over and done with, he strolled through security, alarms blaring as he went through the metal detectors - _no shit_ , he thought wryly. He cleared that and went for the runway, uncertain whether or not the extraction team would even show.

A black Talon plane. They were there.

Akande exhaled. Otherwise he might have had to hijack some other flight to get out of this one.

Lucky, then, that they were here. Armed, dangerous. Sniper fire covering him on his way to the plane. He knew that marksmanship. More accurately, markswomanship.

He ducked behind a set of mobile stairs, armed forces closing in. His Talon allies reached him then.

He glanced around, looking for Reaper. Was he on the plane? Was he here?

He hadn’t shown. Akande was somewhat affronted. Surely this mission was important enough that he would have to attend in person. It couldn’t be risked. Reaper’s input would have been key. Why was he not here?

Was it personal? Was the man really petty enough to risk something so major out of spite?

_(yes. yes he was.)_

“You took long enough,” he growled at his backup, irritation at Reaper’s absence directed at them instead.

“Sorry sir,” one of them said, saluting. “Complications. I was on our first rescue attempt. When the boss - the other boss, I mean - got injured.”

_They’d tried before?_

_Reaper had got injured?_

There wasn’t time to ask. “It doesn’t matter what road brought your here. Just that you arrived on time. It would have been difficult if you had not.”

“Of course,” the man replied. He peered around their cover. “Shit. OR-15s. They’re new. This must have been your first time fighting them, right? How did that go? They’re something else, aren’t they?”

“First, tenth. They fall as easy as any other foe. Omnic tacticians lack creativity. The trick is to improvise.”

“Right,” the soldier agreed. “Prepare to move out, people.”

“No,” Akande corrected. He could feel the stares on him. “We cannot take them head on now. Too open, exposed. It would be unwise.”

One of the soldiers elbowed another and muttered in a thick Scottish accent, “Looks like the big fella’s losing his touch.”

Akande rounded on her. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Hennessy. Mhairi Hennessy. Sir.” The young Scot squirmed under his steely gaze.

“Tell me, Hennessy, when was the last time you broke out of a prison by punching through a reinforced wall?”

“Never, sir,” she replied sheepishly.

“Is that so? For me, it was last week. When you next are forced into that situation, then you can say I have lost my touch. Only then. Not before. Understood?” The soldier nodded. “Good. We need cover. I’ll provide us with cover. On my signal, we move. _Not before_.”

He mounted the stairs and leapt headlong at the nearest plane, a budget airline. And it fragmented, parts of it taking out the approaching omnics. They had cover. Their sniper would adjust her position accordingly.

He boarded the plane not moments later, followed by the rest of the team and finally Lacroix, just as the plane began to ascend. The senior operative saluted, deferring command to her of all people. Which reminded Akande - he really needed to ask about Reaper. It wasn’t that he was concerned; or perhaps he was. Would that be a turn of events?

“Monsieur Ogundimu,” Lacroix’s voice was carefully detached.

This irked Akande for some reason. “Mademoiselle Lacroix. Or no, my mistake. It’s Madame, isn’t it? You were married.” Not even a flicker of a reaction. “May I ask where our mutual friend is?”

“Were you not informed? He took an injury in the attempt to free you and is recuperating at a secure facility.”

“I didn’t even know there had been an attempt to free me. It was kept under wraps.” He frowned. “What manner of injuries could lay up a dead man?”

“Nothing severe. But enough that the mission had to be called off. That is all I know on the matter. She didn’t seem particularly willing to elaborate, as he was certain she could. “Do you intend to wear that the whole flight?” She indicated his gauntlet.

He glared. “We have been parted too long. I would rather not be parted again as of yet. Ask again and I shall introduce the pair of you, so that you might become better acquainted.”

Lacroix fell silent. Good. A talkative sniper somewhat defeated the point of subterfuge.

He paced a little, feeling caged in the confined space. Prison habits were hard to kick, he’d found that already. “Where are we going?”

Nobody answered. He would have expected an answer. He was _entitled_ to an answer.

A more direct technique was evidently required. “You will tell me where we are going or I swear to all that is holy I will down this plane and stand above the wreckage looking down at your corpses.”

“Wow, overkill or what?” A new, unfamiliar voice joined in. Spanish-accented. He turned to see a woman in purple waving cheerfully. “I mean, I’d heard you were full of yourself but your ego’s off the scale.”

“Who would you be? In-flight entertainment?” Akande asked drily.

The woman laughed. Lacroix looked displeased. “You could say that. I’m the reason we could get landing clearance and stay off the grid once we escaped. They call me Sombra. You should be thanking me. I’m the reason you managed to get out. Even though our first attempt to get to you failed, I sabotaged the alarms. You’re welcome.”

“Sombra-” Lacroix reprimanded her.

“What?” Sombra shrugged. “He’s on our side, right, we can tell him. Finland. We’re going to Finland.”

“I didn’t know Talon had a facility in Finland. Nor did I know we hired little girls.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, big guy,” Sombra smiled. “You’ve been out of the loop a long time. Talon moved on. But Edgelord McEdge didn’t, if you were wondering. He wanted to come on this mission anyway. It’s kind of sweet, really.”

Akande scoffed. “Forgive me if I question that.” If it _was_ true, however...it made all of his frustration seem unnecessary, uncalled for. A misunderstanding. “Finland. And I didn’t pack any warm clothing.”

“Don’t worry, it’s a seven hour long flight. If you start knitting now, you can have a sweater done by the time we hit Scandinavia.”

And despite Akande’s dislike for this mouthy new acquisition to Talon, he laughed.

He was free.

Soon, he would be with Reaper again.

Not that it was a priority whatsoever.

 

-

 

He was awake for the entire flight, awake, alert, and waiting. Sometimes he paced, sometimes he stared out of the window and considered his options. He didn’t knit. He did start a chess game with Sombra, though, and he had to admit the girl was good.

Eventually they arrived at the Talon facility and Akande was the first off the plane, eager to get out of the confined quarters. Cold winds hit his bare chest, but he didn’t shiver or flinch. His gauntlet radiated a little heat, which he appreciated right about now. Still, he headed inside straight away, into the warmth of their new base.

A few stunned operatives stared at him, dumbstruck. Now he was back. Now he was truly back in the game.

“Where is he?” he asked, and nobody had to ask who he meant. They directed him down to an underground infirmary without hesitation. Without even stopping for a meeting or trying to debrief him of the current situation. Nobody wanted to get in his way. That was how he liked it.

He took the stairs down. Not that he disliked the elevator but he wanted to be able to walk and think. Think about what he’d say, do. Come to some sort of decision what came next.

Ducking his head through the door, he entered the infirmary. Reaper was carefully monitoring several screens, giving out orders and conducting operations even from here. He was hard to read as he was, but he didn’t seem surprised to see Akande. Probably had been watching on CCTV from the moment he’d arrived. He didn’t look injured, but he didn’t stand when Akande arrived. Telling.

“So what happened to you, then?” Akande asked, mustering up a smile. “Silver bullets? Stake through the heart? Projectile-fired garlic?”

Reaper snorted. “Neurotoxin, actually. Gas projectiles designed specifically against me. I mean, I’m flattered, but they hurt like hell when they explode inside you. Sorry we couldn’t get you out.” His apology sounded genuine. Akande sighed.

“I thought Talon had discarded me. I thought perhaps you had gotten a taste of the power you could have without me and enjoyed it. I am sorry I doubted your conviction.”

“Understandable,” Reaper replied, his voice as low and rasping as ever. “If it had been the other way around, I might also have questioned whether you would show.”

“Of course I would,” Akande retorted, a little offended. “You are important. To Talon,” he clarified. “And yes, to myself.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Reaper chuckled darkly. “I almost missed you, but I’m reconsidering my decision now.”

Akande smirked too. He took a seat next to his injured comrade. “I missed you. Solitary confinement makes a man miss the comforts of life.”

“Oh? And what comforts might you be referring to?”

Akande gritted his teeth. “I did not punch my way out of prison, steal back my fist, and fight my way through an airport for you to goad me like this. I believe I deserve something in return.”

“Fire away.”

He smiled, touching Reaper’s ruin of a face. “A kiss for a returning hero?”

“Ask, and you shall receive.”

He did.

And he was free.

 

**Author's Note:**

> god i love writing Akande he's such...an arrogant fuckin prick. i love. hes my main man now. mine. love him.


End file.
